


Good Riddance

by RavenZaiyo



Series: Z's Witcher Oneshots [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Crack, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Do not meddle in affairs of sorcerers, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Fix-It of Sorts, Geralt talks to goddamn horses, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Talks About Feelings, Jaskier is a himbo, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, i take a hammer and i fix the canon, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaiyo/pseuds/RavenZaiyo
Summary: Jaskier should learn eventually not to sleep with people just to fill the void. The sorcerer he shared a bed with perhaps didn't like that Jaskier wasn't as abiding his... erm... Modest affections... and decided that Jaskier would see better Riding as a horse.A week later, a Witcher finds a horse with an Almost human intelligence to it, and it sets his medallion to stirring. He's not usually one to buy male horses, especially ones that haven't been gelded, but the horse is cheap and Geralt feels generous.If he could only hear the horse's responses to his chatter.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Z's Witcher Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818043
Comments: 22
Kudos: 251





	Good Riddance

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this at work and laughed my ass off. Other people thought it was funny. So here it is. Gonna power through it in one go. Can't be that hard. 
> 
> Um. Also, I'm writing this just for fun. Usually I put more effort in, but I just want to get to the punchline, so please bear with me and enjoy!
> 
> Here's my inspiration for half of this. Jaskier is just John Mulaney with a lute. (video linked at start of fic)

"This is bullshit." Jaskier tried to convey to the mare next to him. She stared at him dumbly, chewing in that weird way horses do. Again, Jaskier emphasized, "Absolute fucking garbage." The humans mucking out the stables didn't seem to mind how vocal he was. After all, Jaskier was just another horse. Would probably fetch a nice price, if anyone would buy him, annoying and loud as he was. He was pretty, if a bit short. Good teeth, no diseases, seemed well-adjusted to traveling.

Jaskier, of course, got himself to this point with his libido. Sorcerers had magic, who'd have thunk it. It isn't just to make their fingers tingle nice places, or duplicate themself so they could take him from multiple vantages at once-- no, they could do more _practical_ things with their stupid magic. Jaskier had insinuated nothing hostile, of course! Just that the magic could, perchance, make the mage's dick a bit more filling.

Well, how was he supposed to know the mage wouldn't have found humor in that? Jaskier could _almost_ find humor in the curse itself, though: If you want to be ridden, make yourself an appealing ride!

Now, here he was, waiting to be sold to some idiot in some backwater town. His prospects were bleak. He couldn't exactly _not_ bitch about it, even if there was no one around who would understand what he was saying. In fact, _since_ no one knew what he was saying, he dusted off a collection of particularly horrible things he would usually never be caught saying. He'd learned quite a few things in service of Geralt-- and now he launched every one of those disgusting words at the sorcerer whose small dick was apparently not magic-able into a not-so-small dick.

May he grow a sense of humor, and a couple inches. It would double his appeal as a person, _and_ his overall length.

Jaskier had to settle for the weird shit they fed the horses, but he vowed on his life that if he ever regained his human body, he would force these assholes to eat this nasty shit themselves. And if any of them slapped his ass without asking again, he'd _break their other leg._ He had to settle down on the threat of being gelded, however. But there's only so much he could settle down.

He couldn't even do anything with his hands. No lute, no singing, no conversation. This was literal hell! It could _not_ get any worse.

That was legitimately what he thought, until his enhanced sense of smell brought a familiar scent of blood, sweat, and metal. But no sound of hoof-beats reached him. Where was Roach? Was it not Geralt? Was it another witcher? He was absolutely sure it was a witcher, after all. But then it struck Jaskier: if Geralt had no horse, there was a small chance he was in the market for one.

This was either the best or worst case scenario. He was unsure which as of yet. He didn't think he could handle being rejected by Geralt _twice_ in one life. However, if he was purchased, he'd have to be Geralt's show pony. And that was a bit to unpack.

It was, indeed, Geralt of Rivia in this shit town, and he did, indeed, need a horse, even if only temporarily. Whatever that meant. Jaskier assumed it was Geralt's way of haggling. If he didn't need the horse for long, he didn't want to pay too much for it. Made sense, but only to Geralt. Witchers, especially Geralt, were not too good at haggling without signs or threats.

Luckily, Jaskier was there to make an ass out of himself. Geralt looked at him, as if in interest, and the stableman lurched for the opportunity. "This'un here is of good stock."

"Short." Geralt grunted.

"Well, excuuuuse me, asshole!" Jaskier snorted.

The stableman seemed intimidated to touch Jaskier, what with the nips and kicks he was bound to give. "Good, sturdy stallion here. Probably would gut your monsters before you could."

Geralt grunted. "He'd wind up dead, then."

"I will trample you." Jaskier said to both of them. "First chance I get. I will crush you with my filthy fucking hooves and shit on your bodies for good measure."

There was a pause after Jaskier quit neighing. The stableman sighed. "Please, for the love of god just take him off my hands."

Jaskier made an affronted noise.

Geralt huffed what might have been a laugh. "Sure. He seems intelligent enough."

He and the stableman made a deal, and he saddled up Jaskier. Hauling himself up onto his back, however, was an ordeal that Jaskier was not enjoying. "Holy fuck, Geralt, I thought I'd never have to try to lift you again after that one incident but here we are! Not only do I have to bear your oppressive silence and overall bitchiness, but now I have to literally carry you around until you throw me off again!"

Despite his protests-- very vocal protests, mind you-- Jaskier felt pleased at this, deep down. It wasn't quite like old times, but at the same time it was. Just him and Geralt on the road again, only this time, they could go faster if Jaskier felt up to the speed. Geralt could kick him as hard as he could, and he would go no faster than he wanted. He knew better; Geralt didn't have anywhere dire to be. Not that Geralt would ever kick his horse. He was always gentle to Roach. Which begged the question: Where the hell was she?

Geralt, sweet, sweet Geralt... was all-too eager to tell him, it seemed. Jaskier knew the man spoke to his horse, but this was another level of amusing. And cathartic. The conversation was only bits at a time, punctuated with silence, but it almost made Jaskier feel normal again.

"I'll find someone to take care of you when we get there. Damn sorcerers."

"You too?" Jaskier huffed.

"Fucking portals."

"Oh, that makes sense. Serves you right for jumping through one!"

"What is it with sorcerers and sorceresses and the need to read people's minds?" Geralt muttered, sounding thoroughly put out.

"Maybe it's because your social skills suck ass and they need more than a grunt to figure out what you're on about!" Jaskier sassed.

"I don't know why the prick put me in that town, but it doesn't really matter. You seem happy to be out of there, too."

"You have no idea how happy I am. And also how aggravated I am that this is the _most_ you've ever spoken to me, and I don't even want to care!" Jaskier paused. "Also, if we happen to be talking about the same sorcerer, calling him a prick is generous."

"I wonder how much you understand of what I'm saying. I know you understand some of it."

"Too much, unfortunately."

"When I retrieve my horse, Roach, I'll leave you in the care of... an old friend." Geralt trailed off. "She'll be able to break whatever curse you've stumbled into."

"I take offense to that, Geralt. I'll have you know, I fucked my way into this and I'll find a way to fuck my way out."

"I'll consider us even. I got you out of there, I'll get you back to normal, and all you have to do is get us there." He patted Jaskier's head. Jaskier shook and protested. "Shouldn't be hard for you, you're doing great."

"Wow. A compliment. You really do have a soft spot for horses."

Of course it was Yennefer. It was _always_ fucking Yennefer.

He was not going to march his happy horse ass up to that door. He could already smell her, and he was _not_ getting close to her. Last time he'd been "helped" by her in matters of magic, she'd damn near castrated him. He didn't much enjoy the idea of being gelded-- and then it sunk in: if she broke the curse, he'd be there, probably naked and vulnerable, with both of the people who he least wanted to be naked and vulnerable around. And then he'd see Geralt's face cloud up as he realized he'd been--

"Oh, no. Ohhh, no, you bastard. I'm not going in there. I'll take my chances in that valley over there. Just let me free!"

"Work with me, I'm trying to help you!" Geralt growled.

"I'm gonna run into her kitchen, shit in her cauldron, and stomp her herbs with my filthy fucking hooves!" Jaskier yelled, fighting Geralt's hold on the reins.

"Agh, that's what I thought you'd say, you dumb fucking horse!" Geralt roared, pulling harder.

Villagers were watching. Yennefer was looking outside her window, one perfect eyebrow raised in mocking surprise.

Jaskier gave a particularly good toss of his head, throwing his whole body into it, sending Geralt flying. "Oh, yeah! What now, asshole?"

Geralt got up with mud and murder in his eyes. "I'm going to count to five, and you're going to go to the front door. If you don't, I will geld you right fucking here."

"If you even fucking _look_ at my bollocks, I will stomp you to death with my hooves. _I dare you to do it, I want you to do it so I can stomp you with my hooves, **I'm so fucking** **crazy**_ _!"_

Geralt went for his swords with a growl. "One."

"Fuck you and your numbers!" Jaskier snapped at him.

"Two." 

Jaskier watched him, ready to trample him.

"Three."

"Count faster!" Jaskier reared.

Yennefer threw open her door. "Five! Shut up, both of you!" She turned to Geralt. "Bath. Now." And she pointed at Jaskier. "As hilarious as this is, I've grown tired of it. This is done. Settle down."

Jaskier snapped at her finger. To his immense satisfaction, she snatched her hand back with a gasp, her face darkening immediately afterward.

Geralt was inside now, dunking his head in the water to wash the mud out of his eyes. Jaskier was laughing, near hysterics now. Villagers continued to watch, some of them making bets on how far she'd send pieces of him.

Yennefer leaned in and grabbed Jaskier's mane. "You think you're funny, bard?"

Jaskier's guts went cold.

"That's right. You have fucked up." She said. "I might have had mercy on you earlier, but I think I'm past that now. So if you want to keep a shred of your dignity, you're going to listen, you're going to stay still, and you're going to fucking grovel for my generosity, because I could quite literally obliterate you."

"You wouldn't sleep soundly, though."

"I would sleep like a baby, thank you very much." She snapped.

"Oh, fuck."

"Yeah. Who did this to you, anyway? He's a sloppy idiot."

"Do you know a single sorcerer with a tiny dick and a chip on his shoulder?"

She brayed a harsh laugh, covering her mouth afterward.

"Yeah." Jaskier sighed. "I can get a few good songs out of this."

"I almost want to hear them." Yennefer laughed. "Still. Throwing Geralt around like that is a bit much."

Jaskier was silent.

She sighed. "Okay, perhaps it is more amusing now than I gave you credit for." She motioned toward the door. "So, either you stand out here and reveal yourself to the entire town, or you come in as much as possible-- though you should fit, since you're practically a pony--"

Jaskier tried to snap at her again.

"Don't push it. Come in so I can see Geralt's face when you get out of all that fur."

Geralt's face was, indeed, very priceless-- but not nearly as much as when he squared his shoulders, looked at Geralt with all the pride and grace of nobility, though he stood entirely in the buff, and uttered a string of words that nearly ended him.

"When I'd wished you would ride me into the sunset, this whole situation was decidedly NOT what I had in mind, Geralt."

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't very good, I just had to get it out. lmao


End file.
